


Summertime Songs Don't Sound Like 'Goodbye'

by cest_what



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Post-Split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-30
Updated: 2010-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cest_what/pseuds/cest_what
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Brendon got that Ryan and Jon were all about rediscovering analogue sound and British Invasion rock or whatever the hell, but did it have to be All Kinks, All the Time?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Summertime Songs Don't Sound Like 'Goodbye'

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday giftlet for moku-youbi.

Spence and Jon had gone on a coffee run approximately three years (ten minutes) ago. Brendon had been trying to be cheerful and not weird since they left, but Ryan wouldn't stop humming 'Sunny Afternoon' to himself while he sorted through the practice space debris, and Brendon was beginning to hate The Kinks a lot. He got that Ryan and Jon were all about rediscovering analogue sound and British Invasion rock or whatever the hell, but did it have to be All Kinks, All the Time?

Brendon tugged an ancient microphone cord free of the tangle it had wound up in. He turned around to find the right box to chuck it in, shooting Ryan a (cheerful! non-weird!) smile. Ryan was perched on top of a box with his legs crossed, leafing through a sheaf of old notepaper. A curl of fringe had slipped down his forehead, and his cheeks still looked flushed from lugging boxes earlier. He was bopping his head idly and tapping his fingers against his knee, still humming – not quite loudly enough for the words to be clear, but Brendon found himself filling in the verse inside his head anyway. _All I've got's this sunny afternoon..._

Ryan's humming got a bit louder as he reached the guitar riff, the fingers of his right hand strumming at nothing.

Brendon cleared his throat. Ryan lifted his head and gave him a bright smile.

Brendon felt a familiar tug in his chest and he turned away, feeling sick.

He moved a short stack of plastic chairs so that he could pick up a crumpled black guitar case. There was no guitar in it, but when Brendon stuck his hand in the outside pocket he found half a dozen capos tangled around each other, all painted with ridiculous things like suns and dolphins. Brendon remembered Jon finding them in a garage sale last year.

Ryan was still humming, a little more clearly.

_Help me, help me, help me sail away_, Brendon made out. _Or give me two good reasons why I ought to stay._

Brendon picked up a box, putting it down again with a thump. "Well, there's Spencer," he said loudly.

Ryan looked up. His gaze was steady. "That's one reason," he said.

Oh.

Apparently they'd been having a conversation all this time, then. Ryan Ross and his – fuck, and his inability to communicate like a _person_. Brendon stared at him, opening and closing his mouth.

"Yeah," Ryan said quietly, as though they'd agreed on something.

"That's not fair," Brendon said. His voice rose. "That's – Ryan, that's not even. That's _fucked_."

Ryan shrugged and looked back down. He wasn't humming anymore.

Brendon could feel himself getting more and more upset. He looked at the door. If Spencer and Jon came back with coffee in the next thirty seconds, Brendon wouldn't do anything stupid.

The door stayed closed. Brendon marched over to Ryan, curling his hands around the text on Ryan's wrists and tugging him to his feet. Ryan's eyes widened. Brendon propped them against the wall and leaned in, hands cupping Ryan's cheek. He lost his nerve at the last second and they stared at each other, close enough to be fuzzy and indistinct; for Brendon to feel it when Ryan sucked in a breath.

"Brendon?" Ryan said, and maybe he meant to say something else but Brendon acted before he could, leaning forward the last inch. Ryan opened for him immediately, his breath a tiny sigh.

It could have been the first time. Brendon lost all his breath, all his thoughts, and it was just Ryan's mouth soft and sweet under his own, Ryan's cheek under Brendon's stroking thumb, the kiss suspended on the edge of something else. It could have been the first time, when Brendon thought he was getting everything he wanted; before he had any idea how easily two fucked up people could sabotage themselves with love and talking until the only things they agreed on were the things they didn't mean.

Brendon's hands slipped down Ryan's back, tightening. Ryan shifted his arm around Brendon's shoulder. He was awkard, all elbows, but he was pulling Brendon closer, and Brendon would have taken an elbow to the head for that. Ryan bit lightly at Brendon's lip, soothing it with his tongue. Brendon shivered and chased Ryan's tongue back to his own mouth, deepening the kiss. Ryan had gone pliant against him, one hand in Brendon's back pocket.

They leaned against the wall of the practice space, just trading kisses. Brendon thought he'd be happy to stay there forever.

When Ryan pulled back, stretching the cricks out of neck, he was smiling, warm and happy. He ducked his head; looked back up. "That wasn't a good reason," he said.

It took Brendon a moment to remember what they were talking about. He blinked, slow and heavy. Ryan hadn't taken his hand out of Brendon's back pocket.

"... the fuck?" Brendon said. His voice cracked.

Ryan bit his lip. It was red from kissing, and his hair was mussed, but he was looking at Brendon more seriously now. "We're – we stopped doing this because of the band," he said. He curled his fingers in Brendon's sleeve. "I'm just saying it would be a sucky reason for me to stay."

"Oh," Brendon said. He couldn't move away; not when Ryan's hands were still holding him there.

"But, um." Ryan ducked his head. "Maybe it – if you wanted, maybe it would be a good reason not to go too far away?"

Brendon stared at him. He felt something inside him relax, slow, lightening as though he was breathing out for the first time in months.

"Yeah?" Brendon managed.

He sounded too hopeful. He maybe trusted Ryan not to use that against him though. He maybe trusted Ryan a lot, in the end.

"Yeah," Ryan said. He sounded surer. He met Brendon's eyes, a small smile appearing and vanishing on his mouth. "I think – we can do that, right? If you – I think we can do that."


End file.
